


Trip & Fall

by siriuslywinchester



Series: Toro Brosso [9]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Blood, Cuts, Gen, Hospitals, Trip - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4032493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslywinchester/pseuds/siriuslywinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max takes a tumble and cuts his knee.</p><p>Inspired by my own fall at the McRae Rally Challenge and <a href="http://witterprompts.tumblr.com/post/118527340246/if-you-keep-messing-with-it-it-wont-heal">THIS</a> witterprompt:<br/><i>if you keep messing with it, it won't heal.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Trip & Fall

Max had just landed face first in the dirt. One moment he'd been happily running around the lake, the next he had tripped on thin air and had plummeted towards the ground, scraping his knees and hands.

He lay there for a few moments while the shock of what happened passed, before glancing around to check that nobody had seen. It was early in the morning and the only other people in sight were running on the opposite side of the lake, too engrossed in their path and their music to notice what was happening on the opposite bank.

He picked himself up, brushing gravel from his t-shirt and shorts and wiping stones from his hands to check that they weren't cut.

Everything seemed fine apart from his knees. Both of them were bleeding, with bits of gravel stuck inside, too painful to touch to remove them.

He began hobbling back towards the park gates, giving up on his morning jog and heading home to get cleaned up.

\-----

By the time he reached the Toro Brosso flat, the blood from Max's knees was dribbling slowly down his shins and soaking into his running socks. He toed his shoes off and sat on the sofa, bracing himself for the pain of plucking out the grit and stones that were still stuck in the raw flesh.

"Oh my god," Carlos shouted, emerging from the kitchen having heard Max return early, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I tripped up," Max replied, wincing as he pulled a stone free, "I'll be OK."

"No, no no," Carlos replied, waving his arms in the air in panic and running up and down the room trying to decide what to do first, "We need to clean it. No, lets go to hospital."

Carlos barely gave Max a chance to answer before he scooped him into his arms, panic giving him the strength, and carried him out of the door.

"Carlos, I'm fine. It's just a cut," Max said, unsuccessfully trying to wriggle free from his team mates arms, "I don't need to go to hospital."

"Just in case," Carlos replied, panting as he started down the stairs, not paying any attention to what Max was saying as he worried about amputation and losing his team mate.

\-----

When they reached the hospital, Carlos carried a protesting Max into A&E. His knee was still bleeding and the blood that had dripped down his shin was dried and flaking.

Carlos placed Max on a chair and rushed to the receptionist to register him to be seen. He quickly filled in a form, knowing most of Max's details already and handed it back to the lady behind the desk who told him to take a seat and wait.

Max wasn't sure what Carlos had written on the sheet, but within minutes, his name was called and a hospital porter appeared with a wheelchair to take him in to see the consultant.

"Max Verstappen, yes?" the man asked, peering over his glasses as Carlos bustled into the room, still flustered and panicked.

"Yes, he's Max," he answered, before Max could open his mouth, "He had a terrible fall. He's bleeding, please help him."

Carlos gestured to Max's leg and the consultant looked it up and down, clearly not impressed with what he saw.

"Can you bend it?" he asked, nodding when Max obliged, flexing his knee a few times to show that it was fine, "And it's not hurting anywhere beside where the cut is?"

"No," Max replied, wishing that it was after all the fuss Carlos had caused.

"But it's bleeding a lot," Carlos said, pointing to the blood as though the consultant hadn't noticed.

"Yes, I see," he replied, giving Carlos a look of exasperation over his glasses, "I'll have one of my nurses clean you up and dress it. That's all that is wrong. Please, watch what she does. It's simple and really all you need to do in these circumstances. She'll get you in the waiting room."

Max smiled and began to climb to his feet to walk back into the waiting room, but Carlos pushed him lightly back into the wheelchair and carefully wheeled him out of the room to wait for the nurse.

\-----

A week later, Max was feeling completely fine. The cut had heeled, scabbing over and he could walk fine. Carlos had been running around after him ever since, getting him food and drink and generally entertaining him, refusing to let him do anything while he was injured. The crutches - which Carlos had insisted to the nurse that Max needed - lay abandoned on the floor by his feet.

They were sat in the lounge together, watching one of Max's favourite films for what seemed like the one hundredth time that week - Carlos insisting that it would make Max feel better. He had shorts on and the scab was beginning to itch.

He picked at the side of it, delicately sliding his nail underneath and flicking to break the scab free.

"Stop it," Carlos shouted, slapping Max's hand away from his knee, "If you keep messing with it, it won't heal!"

Max pouted at Carlos, his knee twitching with the itch to scratch.

"But it's itchy," Max said, "My Mum used to let me pick my scabs."

"Well your mum isn't here and I'm not letting you pick it," Carlos replied, "What if you get infected and then get gangrene and die. Or worse, have your leg amputated. How will you race then?"

Max gaped at Carlos before spitting with laughter.

"Carlos, it's just a little cut," he said, "I'm not going to die or lose my leg. Chill out."

"I just want to make sure!" Carlos replied, his eyes showing the sincerity and worry, "I feel responsible since I'm like the older brother here. I don't want you to be hurt."

Max smiled, forcing the laugh that was bubbling out of him down as Carlos seemed to serious.

"I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine," Max said, patting Carlos' hand, "Can you get me a coke though. My knee is all twitchy."

Carlos jumped up form the sofa, grinning and raced into the kitchen to grab a glass and a can of coke from the fridge.

Max couldn't help but laugh, wondering how long it would last before Carlos realised he was capable of walking fine and stop fussing over him.


End file.
